CHANGE OF LIFE promises SEVEN
by GStales
Summary: The seventh story in the change of life series
1. Chapter 1

**Promises**

**One**

By nature Christopher Greenwood was a happy little boy. He took obvious delight in all of the simple pleasures of childhood. Never in his short life had he known a day when he wasn't loved. He'd received praise for his accomplishments and been disciplined only with kind firmness. The consistency of his life had imbued him with a strong sense of worth and a trust and faith in those around him. That trust and faith had been severely challenged by the events of the past six months. Valiantly, he had struggled to adjust to his new circumstances and changes so constant they seemed to be a daily occurrence.

It wasn't the first night he'd cried himself to sleep in the tiny bedroom adjacent to Miss Kitty's room at Ma Smalley's Boarding House. He was feeling sad and lonely and more than a little bit scared. His life felt like the jigsaw puzzle Miss Burrow had at school for the children to play with on rainy days, when they couldn't go outside for recess. It seemed full of holes and missing pieces. There were so many things he missed and so many things that were jumbled up. He missed living at the ranch and his room and his dog Puppy. He missed Miss Kitty; for she seemed to spend all her time at Doc's office with Marshal and her desertion had left Chris to fight his nightmares alone. He missed the Marshal Dillon he'd come to know, the man he visited once a day was nothing like the strong man he'd grown up loving and who had promised to take him hunting.

Most of all he missed his own mother and father. The ache that filled his heart was so keen he sometimes wondered why he hadn't died with them. When finally his tossing and turning had so exhausted his body that sleep came and the tears dried on his cheeks; his dreams took him back to the security of his mother's love. Christopher soaked in the feel of those loving arms wrapped protectively around him. In his dream he inhaled the sweet scent of her lavender soap and he listened contentedly as she soothed him to a deeper slumber with soft lullabies. He felt the gentle motion as she swayed back and forth, rocking him in her arms as if he were still a baby. The glare of morning light came to wake him with life's harsh realities in tow, and the changes the past six months had brought to his life. The weight of those changes lay heavy on his heart. Pulling the blanket over his head he shut his eyes tight hoping for the return of sleep and his mother's embrace.

"Good morning sleepy head," Miss Kitty said from the doorway, "Time to get ready for school."

With a sigh, he poked his head out from the blanket. Miss Kitty smiled at him and suddenly his world seemed to be in less of a turmoil. Sitting up in bed, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Kitty moved closer to him and sat by his side. She was aware she'd neglected him in the past week, ever since they had brought Matt back from Shawnee Pass. She knew how important her presence was to Matt, but she realized it wasn't fair to the child and she promised herself she would make it up to him somehow, just as soon as things were back to normal. Her baby kicked and it came to her; she didn't know what normal was anymore. Reaching out she brushed back the hair on his forehead, "There is a very important doctor coming on the train from Denver today. His name is G.L. Harrington." She paused as she saw the question come to Christopher's eyes.

"Can he make Marshal all better?" he asked.

An all too infrequent smile tugged at her lips as her eyes softened affectionately. "He's going to try little Cowboy. Hopefully he will say we can move Matt back home to the ranch soon." His eyes widened with uncertainty and she instinctively pulled him close. "Things will be better once we're all back home, I promise you Christopher."

He only nodded his head in response, he was learning not to look too far into the future, for as scary as today was; tomorrow could prove even worse.

**GS GS GS**

A series of telegrams had been exchanged between Dr. Galen Adams and Dr. G. L. Harrington of the famous Harrington Clinic in Denver, Colorado. The latter had finally made a decision to travel to Dodge City, Kansas to offer his personal and professional opinion on the prognosis and treatment of one Matthew J. Dillon.

**GS GS GS**

Every day since his return from Shawnee Pass, Kitty had been by his side. Her love had given him the strength he needed to come back to life. Her soft voice and loving hand kept him anchored safely to the living world. In spite of his pain he was able to open his eyes to seek hers and embrace their future together. But as his hold on reality increased so did his knowledge that his body was damaged. His lower limbs seemed dead to him. Try as he might he couldn't make his legs respond to the most basic of commands. Kitty would hold tightly to his hand as she leaned close to whisper, "Don't try to hard Matt, just rest. It takes time to heal."

**GS GS GS**

That early December day brought the season's first light dusting of snow, giving a pristine appearance to the otherwise dirty cow town. A tall-distinguished passenger, of late middle years stepped down from the train to be met by Newly O'Brien and Dr. John Bledsoe. The eminent physician wore a coat of somber Scottish wool plaid, while a fine black felt derby was perched jauntily on his head; he carried a leather medical bag, which though not new was obviously of the best quality. His kind face was decorated with salt and pepper muttonchops and a modest handlebar moustache. With handshakes and greetings exchanged the three gentlemen proceeded to the office of Galen Adams, M.D.

**GS GS GS**

Matt had been dozing as Kitty read the newspaper to him. Her soft drawl had a hypnotic affect that when combined with the pain medication, soothed him to sleep. She had been aware of the visitor's arrival upon hearing the hushed voices coming from the outer room and knew the medical men were discussing her husband's condition. When she was certain Matt was asleep she quietly rose from the chair and went into the main office to join them.

Dr. Harrington had been seated at Doc's desk, but he stood when Kitty entered. He offered his hand and smiled in greeting, his eyes traveled down her body and up again, "Mrs. Dillon, I am pleased to see you looking so well; especially after these recent traumatic events."

Kitty returned his smile, shaking his hand she replied, "I'm from hearty stock. You know that Dr. Harrington." Her smile slipped and the worried look replaced it, "I'm very grateful you've made the trip to Dodge. Will you be able to help Matt?"

His voice was calm and infinitely kind as he replied, "That's what I'm here to find out." Still holding her hand from the handshake he gave her an extra squeeze. "We are doing some remarkable things with spinal injuries."

She took a deep breath and said, "Matt has faith in you Dr. Harrington, and Doc says you're the best there is."

Dr Bledsoe rose to his feet and looked at Dr. Harrington, the younger man was eager to get on with the exam, "Shall we take a look at the patient then?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Two**

Kitty's absence and the voices in the next room drew Matt Dillon from sleep. He strained his ears to hear what they were saying. Using his arms he attempted to pull his body to rest higher on the pillows at his back. He was to weak to do more than slightly change his position. He ran splayed fingers through his sweat-moistened hair. The effort left him exhausted, but he was composed when the door opened and Dr. Harrington entered followed by Doc, Newly, Dr. Bledsoe and finally Kitty.

Harrington walked straight to Matt with an outstretched hand, "Marshal Dillon it is good to see you again, although I regret the circumstances."

Even the effort to say more than a few words sapped him of strength, "Thank you for coming." His voice a ghost of it's former self.

"Matt, as Doc Adams may have informed you earlier, I'm here to evaluate your condition, after which, I shall hopefully be able to propose a treatment plan to get you back on your feet. I'm going to examine you. I'll try to cause you as little discomfort as possible." Harrington turned to Kitty, "It may be best if you were to wait in the other room Mrs. Dillon."

Kitty shook her head, "No, I'll just stay back here by the window, out of everyone's way." Bracing herself with fingers wrapped around the back of a chair, Kitty watched as the specialist began his examination of Matt. She gritted her teeth as she observed Matt stoically wince, but when a groan escaped from his lips, she stepped forward and said, "Please stop, can't you see you're hurting him?"

Adams placed his arm around her waist, and said in a low voice, "Kitty, I want you to wait in the other room." She ignored Doc, her eyes remained focused on Matt. His pain was evident in the set of his jaw and the sweat beaded on his forehead. "Please… he's been through enough, please just let him rest." She begged.

Doc's hand slipped to her back as he applied pressure to make her move in the direction of the doorway, "Why don't you start a pot of coffee for us?"

Kitty flashed an angry look at her old friend, she was ready to give him a piece of her mind, when Matt said, "Go on now Kitty; it's alright." He smiled in an effort to reassure her.

"You're sure Matt?" she asked, and he nodded. She moistened her lips and replied, "all right then…" and left the room without a backward glance. Once the door was closed behind her, she leaned back against it with her arms folded across her chest rigidly. Finally she forced her tense muscles to relax and went about making the coffee. She found she was grateful for the task. Several times she heard the sound of Matt's groans coming from behind the closed door. Sitting down she fixed her gaze on the wall clock willing the hands to quicken their journey to lessen Matt's time in pain. Finally the door opened and the doctors walked out. Back on her feet, Kitty quickly poured and served the coffee while the medical men discussed her husband's case.

"There has been nerve damage, but it is always difficult to ascertain to what extent." Dr Harrington stated. Heads nodded around the room as Dr. Harrington continued, "Response to stimuli below the lumbar sacral spine is minimal at best. Given that, I still believe there is a good chance for a significant improvement."

"Define significant in this case." Doc requested.

"Galen, we have been studying the effects of a program of exercise and heat treatments along with deep massage of the tissue surrounding the injured area. We have observed marked success." Dr. Harrington said.

John Bledsoe's voice was controlled enthusiasm; "I've read something about that in my last medical journal, physiotherapy. It's still considered controversial, standard practice for this type of injury historically dictates complete rest, allowing the affected area time to heal."

Doc took off his glasses to study Harrington and then asked, "Do you think Matt would benefit from this aggressive treatment as opposed to a more conservative approach?"

"I am not one to use this word lightly but, yes Galen, I have seen it work miracles – even in cases where we thought there was no hope we have seen dramatic improvement. But – and I must be honest here – there have also been many cases of no improvement and the patient was forced to endure the sometimes painful treatment." The specialist admitted.

"Just a minute here!" Kitty finally spoke up, "What exactly are you going to do? Can you help Matt?"

"My dear, I am sorry. We did not intentionally mean to leave you out of this conversation." Dr. Harrington moved toward Kitty and placed his arm around her shoulder leading her to a chair. "Let me explain in more detail what I am proposing. The wound itself is healing nicely, however the bullet did a great deal of damage. The nerves in Matt's lower back have been injured. This is clear from my examination. He has most likely suffered several small fractures of the vertebral canal surrounding his spinal cord. Initially he lost a great deal of blood and there was much swelling. His condition in that respect has stabilized, although I fear the swelling has not completely subsided. My treatment plan would involve stimulating the nerves in his spine, and exercising the muscles so they do not weaken excessively due to inactivity."

Kitty lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes, "What did you mean about this being painful? Don't you think he's suffered enough?"

Doc stepped forward to answer Kitty's question, "How much more painful would it be if he were to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair?"

"Have you discussed this with Matt?" she asked.

Harrington nodded.

"And…?"

"He is willing to do anything that will give him a chance at walking again." Harrington disclosed.

She looked around the room at the faces of the men and noted their single-minded determination. With some effort she asked, "What can I do to help?"

**GS GS GS**

It had become part of Christopher's routine, as soon as Miss Burrow dismissed school, he would run to Hank's stable to check on Buck. At first Hank had kept a close eye on the little boy and the big horse, but it soon became evident a certain kinship existed between the two and he felt comfortable leaving them alone together. He had shown Chris how to apply the compresses to the horse's wound and liniment to his strained muscles. He encouraged him to talk to the horse. "Sometimes the most important thing about healing has nothing to do with medicines," the wise old horseman revealed. "Horses and people are a lot alike … both need to know someone cares they get better." Chris nodded in understanding. He was determined to make sure ol' Buck knew he cared about him.

The infection had sapped the strength from Dillon's horse. He stood in his stall with his head down, and his eyes drawn at a dull half-mast. At the child's voice he raised his head and his ears twitched forward in greeting. This day Hank had been working on a buggy harness, and was close enough to hear bits and pieces of the one-sided conversation Chris had with the old buckskin.

"Miss Kitty says he is a very important doctor, he's probably checking on Marshal right this very minute, and maybe he'll be all better by tonight!"

Hank's wrinkled brow deepened in a frown as he listened to the child's words. He had heard the rumors surrounding the arrival of G.L. Harrington, as well as the extent of the Marshal's injuries. Hank was well aware of Matt Dillon's chances of being healed anytime soon. The old man didn't feel it was his place to interfere, but he had grown fond of the youngster. He put down the harness and walked to the corner where the gelding was housed. Leaning against the stall door he said, "You know, sometimes it takes a while to heal…" Hank rubbed at his whiskered chin and then continued, "Look at ol' Buck here, you've given him the best care, but sometimes it just takes a mighty long time."

Chris was standing on a stool brushing the horse. He paused with the currycomb in mid-air to look at the old man. "I know, Mr. Hank," he admitted in a soft voice, "but Buck seemed mighty low and I just wanted to give him a happy thought to hang on to."

Wisely Hank realized the child was searching for something to hang on to as well. He smiled and replied, "I guess we could all do with a happy thought."


	3. Chapter 3

**Three**

It was decided Matt would be strong enough to be moved back to the ranch by the end of the week. The days before that were an education for Kitty. Dr. Harrington schooled her in the exercises and massage he felt necessary for Matt's recovery. There were times when her face would drain of color when she saw the pain the treatment caused. She would look up into the face of Doc or Dr. Harrington and know she had to continue. It was Matt's best shot at recovery.

**GS GS GS**

Festus drove her out to the ranch the day before the planned homecoming. The repairs had been made to the fire damaged kitchen and the only thing missing were the curtains Kitty had brought along to hang that day. She walked down the hall to their bedroom, glancing at the brass bed and the smaller cot Hagen had placed beside it. She wouldn't allow her mind to linger there as she walked instead to open the window. The brisk breeze blew against her hair and the room took on a chill. She turned to look back at the bed they had shared. It would be good to have Matt home. She forced herself to focus on the job at hand and stripped the mattress of its sheets and replaced them with the freshly laundered ones.

Festus had followed Dr. Harrington's instructions and built a wooden devise consisting of rope, weights and pulleys. The apparatus would allow Matt's muscles a form of exercise to combat the atrophy already taking place in his idle limbs. Kitty stood back as Hagen rigged the framework over the bed, "I don't see how in tarnation this here fool contraption is gonna help Matthew." Festus grumbled as one of the pulleys hit him on the head.

Kitty raised her eyebrows but remained silent. She looked around the room and stopped when she saw the wheelchair. Festus must have brought it in the room while she was changing the sheets. She looked back at the framework hanging over the bed, "It has to work, Festus, it just has to."

**GS GS GS**

Hank led the buckskin from the stable to the waiting wagon by Doc's stairs; he gave the horse a kind pat and left him tied to the hitching post. With great care Matt was placed on the stretcher and secured in place by a series of leather straps. Under the watchful eyes of Doc Adams; Newly, Festus, Sam and Burke each lifted a corner and carried the lawman out of Doc's office and down the steps to the waiting wagon. The stretcher was suspended by the sides of the wagon and anchored in place. Dr Bledsoe and Dr. Harrington took their position on either side of the patient.

Tied to the stretcher as he was, Matt didn't even have the use of his arms, the truth of how helpless he was suddenly hit him with full force. He was a cripple. He had to rely on friends for his most basic of needs. He was going home, but what use could he be there. How could he run a ranch and provide a decent living for his family? How could he be a father to Christopher and the child on the way? How could he be a husband to Kitty?

A welcoming committee of Andrew Dillard and Willie Roniger met the wagon. The dog, Puppy ran in happy circles around the wagon barking excitedly. Matt was eased off the wagon and carried into his house. It took a good deal of time before he was finally settled in bed and a generous dose of painkiller had been administered. "Is there anything I can get you Cowboy?" Kitty asked, "Would you like me to sit with you for a while?"

Through gritted teeth Matt shook his head, "No, I'm fine."

She wanted more than anything to lie down beside him and rest her head against his solid chest, but he had dismissed her, and she had to do as he wished, "Alright then, I'll check on you in a bit." She bent down and kissed his cheek, "It's so good to have you home again."

He watched her leave the room and as the door closed so did his eyes. His mind was a tangle of emotions and he knew some of that was a result of the pain medication, he hated the stuff; it distorted reality and time. He tried to relax, but the bed felt uncomfortable and he wasn't able to shift position. Opening his eyes again, his gaze wandered around the room stopping at last to rest on the wedding picture on the table beside the bed. The shades were drawn but there was still light enough to see it. He reached for the gilt framed photograph, but it was too far away, forcing him to study it from a distance. It amazed him how young they both looked; it was as if he and Kitty had aged a lifetime in a few short months. He felt the weight of self-reproach as he looked at Kitty, it had been his intent to provide her with a lifetime of happiness, not sentence her to a future anchored to a helpless invalid. A thought had haunted him in the last few days and it came back now. It may have been better for all concerned had he died at Shawnee Pass.

**GS GS GS**

Dr Harrington had decided to stay on at the ranch for a few days, just to make sure his treatment plan was being properly executed. The exercises started the next morning. The specialist began the regimen by applying steaming towels to Matt's injured spine. The kitchen windows fogged up as the water boiled on the stove. Kitty and Andy Dillard took turns carrying the towels between the kitchen and bedroom. As the towels cooled they were placed back in the large copper boiler. After the heat, Harrington carefully massaged Matt's back using heated liniment. Finally, he attached pulleys and weights to the useless limbs. Kitty stood in the hall watching Matt's reflection from the bedroom mirror. She saw his face distort as the pain coursed through his body. Sweat beaded on her own forehead and she felt sick to her stomach at the sight.

Harrington saw Kitty reflected in the mirror, "Matt, you just take it easy for a moment, I'll be right back." He left the room and shut the door behind him. He took Kitty's hand and led her to the kitchen. He sat her down at the table and took the chair across from her for himself, "Andy, pour us a cup of coffee would you?" He waited while she took a deep drink of the brew before continuing. "I know this is hard for you but not only is this Matt's best chance, I believe it is his only chance."

She pressed her knuckles against her mouth, her mind was screaming, "I can't do this!" but she knew she didn't have a choice, so she merely nodded her head.

That day it became evident to Dr. Harrington, in her advanced stage of pregnancy – the therapy and treatment were too big of a burden for Kitty to carry alone. He enlisted Festus Hagen to be Kitty's right hand man. Festus took up residence in the Dillon bunkhouse, declining Kitty's invitation to sleep in the guest room after Dr. Harrington left. Festus was eager to help. He listened carefully to the doctor's simple instructions and was soon learning the proper way to attach the pulleys to Matt's legs and how to gauge his progress. By the time Dr. Harrington was ready to leave the plan was in effect. Dr. Adams or Dr. Bledsoe would make daily trips to the ranch to guarantee everything was proceeding properly.

On the day before Harrington left, he proclaimed Matt strong enough to sit in the wheel chair. The chair's presence in the corner of the bedroom had been a continual reminder of his condition; he hated the sight of it and looked at it as a sign of his helplessness.

"We're going to show you how to transfer your body from the bed to the chair. When you are a little stronger this will be quite easy, and you won't need a transfer board." Under Dr. Harrington's direction and Doc's watchful eye, Festus and Willie helped Matt to sit on the edge of the bed. Kitty's breadboard was then placed between the chair and the bed. Using the strength of his upper torso, Matt was able to clumsily shift his body to the chair. It proved to be a long and exhausting process. Mutely, he cursed his weakness, as he finally accomplished the move. His heart was thumping hard, his face void of color and moist with sweat as rivulets of perspiration trickled down his cheeks. His white knuckled hands gripped the sides of the chair as he fought to keep from passing out.

Everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath until finally Kitty said, "Well, now that wasn't so bad."

As much as he hated the chair it was to become his link to life in the rest of the ranch house. Each day as his strength returned, he would be able to spend more time in the chair.

Dr Harrington returned to Denver the following day, confident his instructions would be carried out, and the patient had a good chance of significant recovery. It was on the second night after Harrington's departure that Matt experienced his first break through.

Light filtered through the curtained windows casting moon shadows around the room. The house was quiet save for the night sounds of the country. He listened for a moment to Kitty's deep rhythmic breathing coming from the cot next to his bed. She was asleep, "good" he thought, she was exhausted. For him, sleep was a stranger. Dillon felt restless. His body ached for activity. He looked down at his useless legs and tried with all his might to garner a response from them. Nothing happened, rather than give in to his frustration, he decided to concentrate on just his big toe, reminding himself what it felt like for that toe to move, he visualized it in his mind. The muscles of his body, those within his control, tensed with the effort to make it happen, when it did, he was afraid he'd imagined it. Grabbing the bars of the headboard he shifted position and threw back the covers so he could watch. He moved it again and he laughed out loud with the joy of it. Kitty turned in her sleep but woke with a jolt at the sound of his voice calling her name; with some effort she rolled her round body off the cot to come closer to him.

"Matt?" she asked fearing something bad, "What is it, what's wrong?"

He grabbed her hand and pulled her down to sit beside him. "Watch." He commanded, and as she did, he moved his toe.

"Oh Matt!" she exclaimed jubilantly as she threw her arms around him to share in his celebration.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Note to readers **__… I appreciate all the feedback both on line and to my personal email. This is a story I enjoyed writing the first time when my own Christopher was just a little boy, and I'm having fun revisiting. _

_Working frantically here to have Christmas at the Dillon ranch and the gstales cabin ready on time. Trees trimmed, cookies in the oven, finishing touches on garland and candles on the mantle … one chapter posted … another ready to go … guest beds stripped, sheets in the dryer, another chapter to post … _

**Four**

In the week since they had returned to the ranch, Christopher Greenwood had tried very hard to stay out of everyone's way. The ranch house had become a hive of activity, with a steady flow of visitors. There were of course the curious, like Nathan Burke and Bent Dillard who came bringing well wishes and left shaking their heads, clicking their tongues and saying, "Tsk, tsk, such a shame," eager to share with anyone who'd listen the sad plight of Matt Dillon. There were those who belonged to the close circle of friends who came to offer support like Sam and Miss Hannah. Doc Adams or Dr. Bledsoe would stop by at all hours of the day, depending on their schedule of patients. They always seemed to be in a hurry and came and left with anxious expressions on their faces. No one seemed to have time for Chris. At least once a day he heard, "Christopher, please don't get underfoot," or "Christopher, can't this wait until later." Even Miss Kitty had seemed too busy to sit and talk with him, when she did sit down it was with a worried expression on her tired face. So he retreated to the security of his room spending more and more time alone.

**GS GS GS**

The afternoon following Matt's breakthrough found Christopher working on his writing assignment for school. Sitting on his bed, his back rested against the pillows while his knees were drawn up to form a desk for his writing tablet. He stared at the blank sheet of paper waiting for the words to come into his head. He scrunched up his eyes as if in an effort to squeeze out the words. Finally he wrote;

_My Best Christmas_

_By Christopher T. Greenwood_

_I remember last Christmas with my Mama and Papa. Mama and I made cookies to tie on the tree that my Papa and I chopped down. Mama made me two shirts and two new pairs of long pants. She made me a scarf and warm mittens too. Marshal and Miss Kitty sent me a present. It was a whole army of tin soldiers. Doc Adams sent me a silver dollar. Mama cooked ham and sweet potatoes and then we made snow ice cream and sang songs and laughed and had the best time. My papa listened to my prayers and tucked me in bed. Then he said he knew that I had been hoping for a pony for Christmas, and he promised I would get one for my seventh Christmas. I hugged my Papa and told him I loved him. It was my best Christmas._

Looking at the words he had written brought the all too familiar ache back to his heart. His mind strayed to that Christmas. He thought of the tiny house his mother had made into a home. He remembered on Christmas Eve day, his father had carried him out into the woods on his shoulders as they hunted for the perfect tree to take home to Sara. The tree had dominated the small parlor. He and his mother had spent the afternoon baking gingerbread men, giggling together as they decorated the cookies. They had tied them to the tree with bright red ribbon and filled the house with the scent of pine and molasses. He remembered kissing his mother goodnight. Her hair had worked its way loose from the pins holding it in place and it had hung freely over her shoulders. He had smelled the molasses and pine in her hair, smiled and said, "You smell like Christmas, Mama."

Tears burned in the back of his eyes as the memories flooded his thoughts. Miss Kitty had promised one day he would be able to think of his parents and smile, but today he'd felt only the familiar heartache which never seemed to go completely away.

He grabbed Puppy from the foot of the bed. The dog let out a growl as his sleep was disturbed but willingly submitted to the child's embrace. Renegade tears slipped down his cheeks to land on the furry head of the dog. The memories were in full control now as he pictured that Christmas. His papa had tucked him in bed at the end of a near perfect day. He'd carried the happy child to his room and gently tossed him on the bed, playfully tickling the little boy. Their laughter reached his mother's ears and the smile could be heard on her voice as she called, "It's time for bed, you two settle down in there." Papa had winked at him as they both answered in unison, "Yes, Mama." Christopher remembered how his Papa had listened to his prayers and as he was pulling the covers up under his chin had asked, "Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas?"

The smile that lit Christopher's face warmed his father's heart. He nodded, "Everything." He replied.

"Everything?" his father questioned again.

"Well, except for one little thing," Chris had finally admitted.

"Oh… the pony… right?"

Chris nodded and let a little disappointment show on his face.

"Next Christmas, when you're seven, you'll get that pony! Think you can wait a whole year."

"Oh boy, honest true?"

"It's a promise son, honest true." Sitting up Chris wrapped his arms around his father's neck, hugging tight, "I love you Papa." He'd said.

The picture of last Christmas was clear in the child's mind, but as he relived the events, anger replaced his grief, and he said aloud, "You promised Papa! You promised." Puppy wiggled free from his arms and jumped off the bed. In his anger Christopher picked up his writing tablet and hurled it against the wall. He threw himself face down on his bed as his tears gave in to heart wrenching sobs. He cried not for the promise of the pony, but for the promise of Christmas spent together as a family.

From the kitchen below, Kitty heard the smack of the tablet as it hit the wall. Frowning she left the potato water to boil on its own. Gathering her skirts she hurried up the stairs to Christopher's room. She could hear the sobs from within as she stood outside the door, she opened it before he had chance to voice a complaint. "Christopher?" she questioned, "What's wrong?"

"Go away," he said between sobs. She saw the tablet and retrieved it from the floor by the wall. Straightening the wrinkled pages she glanced over the words he had written.

There was a rocking chair in the corner of his room and this is where Kitty sat. She watched him with his face hidden by his pillow, "Come here." She requested gently.

Vehemently he shook his head, "NO." he said.

"Please…"

He considered her request for several long seconds before he finally left pillow and bed. He stood before her and she took his hands in hers. "Do you want to talk about it?" she encouraged.

With his head down and his eyes fixed on the floor, he shook his head again.

With a voice that was patient and kind she said, "Well then I'm going to make a guess this has something to do with what you have written on your tablet." She read his words aloud and when she was finished she remarked, "Christopher, this is a beautiful remembrance, one to hold dear and never forget." His eyes were still laced by tears. He wiped them away with the back of his hand and sniffled loudly. She handed him the hanky in her apron pocket, saying, "There's no shame in crying Christopher. Everyone cries once in a while, I personally think it does a body good to have an occasional cry."

"But you promised…" he said, and then stopped.

"I promised what?" she asked.

"You promised… you said … someday…" he stopped as a hiccup caught in his throat, "I would be able to think about Mama and Papa and not cry and feel sad." When a moment passed and she didn't answer he looked up from the floor into her eyes and saw her tears. He wrapped his arms around her neck, and she pulled him onto her lap. They sat together rocking in the chair - each easing the pain of the other's memories.

When she went back downstairs she looked for Matt finding him in his wheelchair in the parlor staring at the dwindling embers of the hearth. He awkwardly propelled his chair to the stack of wood sitting next to the fireplace. He picked up several logs placing them on his lap and then maneuvered the chair so he was within reach of the grate where he tossed the logs into the fire.

Kitty watched from the doorway, she bit her lip to keep from saying, "Let me do that Matt." Finally she entered the room, putting a smile on her face. He spun the chair around to face her. "Where have you been?" he asked.

"I was upstairs with Christopher. Oh Matt, he was so upset; I've never seen him like that before.

He looked at her with a frown on his face, "What was he upset about?"

She handed him the writing tablet and let him read Christopher's assignment. "Do you think if we were able to get him a pony, that we'd somehow … be keeping Thad's promise?"

He shook his head, "Kitty maybe you haven't noticed but I'm not exactly in any shape to go pony shopping here, for that matter neither are you."

"Couldn't we ask someone to find one for us, Hank or maybe Festus?"

"We've been keeping Festus pretty busy." He was still scowling, and fighting the anger at being helpless. The disappointment on her face was more than he could stand, "I'll have a talk with Festus, have him ask around; he's a pretty good judge of horseflesh…"

Her smile lifted the frown from her face and his, "Oh thank you," and she bent down to show her appreciation with a brief but tender kiss.

Later that day as he was rigged up to the exercise device Matt talked with Festus, through gritted teeth he asked, "You know of anyone with a pony to sell?"

Festus adjusted the weights and thought for a spell, "For ridin' or packin'?"

"It'd be for Chris, seems Thad promised him a pony for Christmas, Kitty seems to think it might help ease some of the boy's grief."

Hagen scratched his head and gave the request his full consideration, "I can't rightly think of any riding ponies off hand Matthew, but I'll have me a looksee around."


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

The large copper boiler on the kitchen cook stove sent clouds of steam that soon covered the windows with a film of moisture. Kitty wiped the dampness from her forehead with the back of her hand as she used a large wooden spoon to fish out a steaming towel for Matt's back. She gingerly placed it in a waiting basin. She heard the knock on the door and called, "Come on in, it's open."

The door opened and in skipped Hanna Rose Roniger, she held in her hands a loaf of Bessie's sweet bread wrapped in a clean dishcloth, "Come on Mama," the little girl encouraged.

"I'm moving as fast as I can Missy." Bessie answered with her usual good nature as she slowly waddled into the kitchen. "Heaven's it's warm in here Kitty!" she declared. Her pregnancy was nearing completion and was beginning to take its toll on her energy.

Hanna came up to Kitty and wrapped her chubby arms around Kitty's expansive waistline. "Hi Miss Kitty, my goodness, you're getting pretty near as big as Mama!" she announced.

"Hanna, you just hush…" Bessie scolded, as removed the squashed bread loaf from Hanna's hands.

"That's all right Hanna; you're just speaking the truth." Kitty patted her stomach; then reached out to give Bessie a hug. "I'm just so happy to see the two of you. Tell you what Bess, why don't you pour us a cup of coffee and cut some of that delicious bread. I've got to put these towels on Matt's back."

Kitty carried the heavy basin into the bedroom and set in on the table beside the bed.

"Who was at the door?" He asked while she helped him roll over on his stomach.

She raised his nightshirt exposing his lower back, "It's Bessie and Hanna," Kitty replied as she put a dry towel on his back and then placed the steamed towel on top of it. Matt's body tensed then gradually relaxed, "You okay?" she asked.

"Fine." He responded curtly. "You go visit with Bessie."

"You sure." She asked.

"Go." He replied.

She returned to the kitchen and heaved a heavy sigh as she eased her body to the waiting chair. Bessie gave Kitty a moment to catch her breath before asking, "How are you doing Kitty, really?"

"Oh Bessie, I'm doing fine, of course I'm worried about Matt and Christopher, but I'm doing fine."

Is Matt showing any progress?" Bess asked.

"Some, it's just so hard to be patient, and that's what we've got to be, I can't help but wonder, what will happen if the treatments don't work? What if Matt is never able to walk again?" Kitty admitted.

Bessie reached across the table for Kitty's hand and said, "then you will learn to adjust and you will remember to be grateful he is alive and with you." Kitty smiled in return at the truth of Bessie's words.

"What about Christopher?" Bessie asked.

She took a long slow drink of her coffee before confiding, "This has all been so difficult for Chris - you know I think Thad and Sara's death is really hitting him hard with Christmas so close and so many memories."

Bessie thought for a moment as she buttered a piece of bread, then a spark came into her eyes. "Oh, I know just the ticket." She declared, "You and Christopher can give a Christmas party. The child needs to make some new Christmas memories."

Kitty shook her head, "Oh I don't know with all that's going on, the idea of a party seems rather frivolous."

"That's just why you need to do this, and besides it's a tradition with you. I can't remember one Christmas since you bought the Long Branch that you haven't given a Christmas party." Bess saw the doubt in Kitty's eyes along with exhaustion and so she amended, "This doesn't have to be a fancy party Kitty, just a nice Christmas dinner with friends would do it. The thing is it will give the child something to look forward to." From the expression on Kitty's face Bess could tell she still needed convincing, "Kitty just look at this as a great excuse to buy a new dress." Kitty placed her coffee cup carefully back into the saucer, she rubbed her chin thoughtfully as she thought of Christopher's tears, finally she agreed, "It might be just the ticket at that Bess."

She had Willie take her to town soon after Bess and Hanna Rose left. Her first stop was the Long Branch to extend an invitation to Sam and Hannah Ryan. Kitty was disappointed to learn that Hannah in keeping with Long Branch tradition was planning her own Christmas celebration. Both she and Sam would be too busy to attend the Dillon party. Kitty did her best to conceal her disappointment, but her enthusiastic mood had taken a definite downward turn.

She met Doc as she was leaving the Saloon, "Curly, I'm planning a Christmas Day party and if you tell me you can't come, I'll never speak to you again."

"Season's greetings to you too Mrs. Dillon," Doc replied with a chuckle. Seeing the threat of an all out temper tantrum on her face, Doc quickly amended his tone, "Well of course I'll come." Adams made a nervous swipe to his mustache, and added, "Say Kitty why don't you join me for coffee and a piece of pie at Delmonico's, I've got something I want to talk to you about. I've been considering that invitation of yours."

Her face brightened, and she took his hands in hers, "Oh Doc, do you mean it, you're moving out to the ranch?"

"Like I said, I've been giving it some thought."

"You go get us a table at Delmonico's, we'll settle all the arrangements today, but first I have to stop by Mary Helgemoe's Dress Shop."

Doc smiled, "I should have known a party is a good excuse for a new dress."

She grinned, "I'm hoping Mary can design a gown similar to the red birthday dress I had a few years back; you know the one that mysteriously disappeared."

Adams held back a wince. Of all the dresses he'd seen this woman wear – that red birthday gown was the ugliest thing he'd ever laid eyes on. Even her great beauty had been dimmed by its hideous appearance, "Now Kitty, considering your condition, that dress may not be the most appropriate."

She smiled at him, "Oh Doc, what do you know about fashion? Besides I loved that dress, I always felt good in it. Now you may not understand this but to a woman that makes it special."

He shook his head at her and chuckled, "I'll get a table for us at Delmonico's, you just come over when you're ready, But don't take too long because I'm hungry!"

Mary stood in front of her dressmaker's dummy. With needle and thread in hand she sewed the finishing touches on Susan Bart Harris' Christmas gown; she looked up from her work when the bell over the door signaled a new customer. "Miss Kitty," she said, her voice showing her pleasure, "What can I do for you?"

"Mary, I know time is short, but I'd like you to make me a special dress for Christmas."

Kitty was one of her best customers, and Mary was only too happy to oblige her in anyway she could, even if it meant a last minute sewing job. "What did you have in mind?" she asked.

Kitty's face became animated as she spoke, "Do you remember that red gown I had you make for my birthday a few years ago?" Mary stared at her with her mouth agape, as Kitty continued. "Remember? I had seen the dress in Godey's Lady's Book, and you made it from that picture."

Mary well recalled the dress. She had always felt it was the most unattractive thing she had ever taken a sewing needle to and deliberately created to order. "I remember," She replied cautiously, "It had those roses and that white fur trim hanging down from the neckline…"

"Yes!" Kitty beamed, "That's the one; do you think you could remember it well enough to make another one for me?"

Mary's eyes traveled up and down Kitty's pregnant figure. She swallowed hard before answering, "Miss Kitty, that gown wasn't designed for someone with your… um… expectations."

Kitty gave an almost girlish giggle, "Oh Mary, I understand it can't be exactly the same, of course you would have to accommodate my present condition."

Mary returned a weak smile. "Well, I have some lovely red wool that would be perfect for the holidays and some beautiful Irish lace…"

"That sounds a little bit dreary, I want something gay, full of life; I'm getting mighty tired of all these dull dresses." Mary thought it was understandable since Miss Kitty had always been used to beautiful showy clothes, "Maybe if you did something special with the neckline, something dramatic…" Kitty saw a nervous look pass over Mary's sweet face, "Oh Mary, just do the best you can, I'll be happy with whatever you sew."

Mary watched Kitty leave her store and walk across the street to Delmonico's and she chuckled to herself. Miss Kitty was a remarkable woman; she was a role model to other women in business for themselves. Kitty Russell Dillon was a beautiful woman known throughout Kansas for her intelligence and courage, but, every once in a while her fashion sense went on holiday. She glanced under the counter, relieved that Kitty hadn't noticed the yards of bright red satin and netting sitting there.


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

Kitty told Matt about the dinner party that evening as they lay in their room, each in their own bed. With the shroud of darkness she felt emboldened to reveal her plans for Christmas.

"That's a dang fool idea if ever I've heard one…" He sat up in bed without support – not realizing he hadn't been able to do that since before his injury. "How are you going to get this all arranged? You should be saving your strength!"

"Christopher needs this. I agree with what Bessie said – he needs to makes some new memories. I won't fuss, it will just be good friends." She paused, swallowed and then continued, "Matt, I have another surprise for you…"

Matt lay back on his pillows with his head turned in her direction. "If you don't mind I think I've had enough surprises in the last few months to last a good long time." He groused.

Noting the tone of his voice, she forced hers to remain light, "Remember my birthday dress from four years ago? The red one you always admired so?"

It was Dillon's turn to be thankful for the cover of darkness as his face took on a definite scowl. "Pretty hard to forget that dress Kitty." He recalled how he had slipped into Kitty's room when she'd been out, taken the dress from her closet and buried it out on the prairie. There was no way that little number could be resurrected.

Kitty on her cot was smiling as she remembered the times she had worn the dress. The gown had a magical hold over Matt. It seemed to be able to drive his passion to its most unrestrained. He would eagerly strip it from her body. Oh, she loved that gown and the lustful nights it produced! "Well, I talked with Mary Helgemoe today and she promised to re-create it for my Christmas dress. Of course she will have to make a few alterations in the pattern."

Listening to Kitty speak, he heard something in her voice he hadn't heard for awhile. Her excitement made him smile, even as thought of the dress caused him to shudder. He finally admitted somewhat grudgingly, "Alright Kitty, have your party, it might be a good idea at that."

She fell asleep with a smile on her face. The smile brought her to a happy dream and the happy dream to a special time. In it she and Matt were back in St. Louis staying at the home of Joseph Gerhardt. Mr. Gerhardt's large mansion rested on the banks of the Mississippi River. The German man was the owner of the city's largest brewery. He and Kitty had become acquainted years earlier when she had visited his factory. She had lodged a personal complaint about the quality of beer being distributed to saloons in the west. Joseph had been captivated by her determined personality and an unlikely friendship developed between the beautiful saloon woman and the tall German brewmeister. Taking her advice he had made changes that had improved the quality of his product and thus increased his prosperity. In recent years she had always been a guest of Joseph and his wife Gabriella on her trips to St. Louis. On those special occasions when Matt joined her he was welcomed as well.

On their last visit Joseph had thrown a great party in their honor. Guests had filled his magnificent ballroom as they danced to the strains of a Strauss Waltz. As guests of honor Matt and Kitty had lead the Grand March. Dressed in a borrowed tuxedo from Joseph Gerhardt, Matt Dillon was magnificently handsome but somewhat ill at ease. Self-consciously Matt took Kitty's hand and led her to the center of the floor. Even without the prying eyes of the judgmental Dodge City citizens, Matt had felt awkward taking Kitty in his arms in public. She knew the dance floor was the one place where he felt clumsy and ill at ease. But the music and the wine had had an intoxicating effect as gradually Matt forgot his misgivings. His arms had tightened their hold. Kitty's heart had pounded with excitement as it seemed the music and man became one. Faster and faster they danced, their bodies molded, eyes locked to the rhythm of the music. The rest of the guests joined in the dance. Brightly colored silk skirts swirled around the dance floor and the smell of sweet talcum and fine cigars filled the air as fantasy and reality joined kindly hands.

Matt's light slumber had been momentarily interrupted when he heard a satisfied moan of pleasure escape from Kitty's sleeping lips. The sound was familiar to him and triggered the memory of an emotion he feared he'd lost at Shawnee Pass. Taking a deep breath he stared at the ceiling and cursed the separate beds and the reason for this necessity.

**GS GS GS**

The shades in their bedroom were drawn, keeping out the late afternoon sunshine. Kitty sat on the side of the bed next to Matt. He lay on his stomach his nightshirt raised. Kitty eased his drawers down below his rump She poured a heated mixture of liniment and oil onto her hands, then placed them on Matt's back. She began a slow deep massage loosening the muscles in preparation for Festus' exercise routine. She used her knuckles to knead the tight sinews of his upper buttocks. Matt let out a low groan as Kitty's fingers continued to work. She stopped when she heard his groan. "Did I hurt you Matt?" she questioned anxiously.

"No, it felt good," he admitted. A smile crossed her face and she continued the massage with renewed vigor. Suddenly therapy was not her foremost thought. Her fingers spread wide as she enjoyed the feel of oil against his warm flesh. She took delight in the sensual experience as her hands gave him forceful caresses to encourage his nerves back to life. "Miss Kitty," Matt chuckled, "I think if you don't stop your treatment pretty soon, we might have another problem on our hands." The muscles strained in his forearms as he pressed his hands against the mattress and pushed and rolled over onto his back. With a smile he invited her to join him. She wiped her hands on her apron and lay on the bed next to him. For the first time since Christopher's piss apple raid they found themselves together wrapped in each other's arms. "Lady you are getting to be an armful." He teased playfully, and then kissed her lips quickly before she could retaliate. A tender passion grew as they gave into their hunger, savoring the taste like some long denied delicacy. The sound of the back door slamming brought them back to reality. They could hear voices coming from the kitchen.

"Christopher and Festus," she said. She tried to jump to her feet, but her center of gravity had shifted and she floundered awkwardly on the bed. Dillon grinned as he gave her bottom a helpful boost. Once up she turned to the vanity mirror, and tugged her gown back into place. Hastily she rearranged her tousled hair, when she turned to face him again; he saw the fire had not completely left her eyes.

He was busy with a little rearranging of his own as he pulled up his drawers. "Try to keep Festus in the kitchen for a few minutes Kitty; I ah… need a little time before I'm ready to start with the exercises." His smile did nothing to hide a passion equal to her own.

"Don't worry, Cowboy. We've got all the time in the world." She turned to leave the room but stopped and came back to the bed for one more taste of his sweet kiss and the promise it held.


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

"I want you to help me to my feet." Matt said a short time later as Festus prepared the weights and pulleys for Matt's exercise program.

"Matthew, I can't do that… doncha know, I'm only supposed to do what ol' Doc tells me to do."

"Look," Matt pulled down the cover and with all of his concentration moved first one leg and then the other.

"Golly Bill, Matthew!" Festus exclaimed.

"It's been coming back a little more each day…" his voice was determined, "I'm going to walk by Christmas." It was a promise he'd made to himself in the last few days, but somehow sharing the wish with someone else made his vow real.

Hagen shook his head, "I don't know, might be it'd do more harm than good, we ought have a talk with Doc first."

"Just help me get up on my feet; I'll talk with Doc about it tomorrow when he comes out."

It took considerable effort on the part of both men, but in the end Dillon was standing. Although his legs supported him for only a few seconds, it was enough to bring the glow of success to both Matt and Festus.

"Two weeks till Christmas, that don't give you a lot of time."

"It'll be enough, and remember, Kitty isn't to know anything about this." The thrill of standing on his own legs stayed with Matt Dillon for a long time. It was as though all of that restless energy had somehow become focused. He started to picture in his mind what Kitty would say, what she would do when he walked to her. By nature he was not given to sentimentality or fantasy with a few notable exceptions but the bed and wheelchair had given him a different view on life.

**GS GS GS**

A fire crackled in the fireplace and the light of several kerosene lamps cast soft shadows on the Dillon parlor walls. Sitting in his wheel chair the former lawman winced in pain, as another wrong note hit his ear.

"No Christopher, it's a D flat, not a D natural. Try it again, please." Matt looked at the pair seated side by side in front of the piano, both heads bowed down in concentration. Christopher spread his hand as wide as it would go and tried the musical phrase once again, only to hit another clinker.

"Oh Miss Kitty it's no use," he declared in frustration.

She glanced toward Matt and then back to Christopher, "It's nearly bedtime, I tell you what, I'll get some milk and cookies for all of us."

Christopher's face broke into a grin, glad to be spared the rest of his piano lesson. When Kitty had left the room, Matt called the boy to his side. With his voice low he said, "I have a little favor to ask of you."

The child's eyes opened wide in amazement, "Of me?"

"Yes, I'd like you to learn how to play that song for Miss Kitty as a Christmas present."

"But Marshal, I've tried and I've tried, I just can't get it right. Besides I hate that song! There is nothing simple about `Simple Gifts'."

"I have a reason for asking. It has to do with my present for Miss Kitty. You see … I won't be able to go to the store to get her anything special this year. But if you learn to play that song, well it would be like it was from the two of us."

Christopher eyed Dillon skeptically, "It would?" He was a generous child by nature but he failed to see how his learning that stupid song would be a Christmas gift from Marshal too.

"Why sure Chris, I can't explain it all. You see, I'm not sure if what I have planned will work."

"Oh it's a secret, what you have planned?" Chris reasoned.

"Something like that." Dillon replied.

"Marshal." Chris vowed solemnly. "I will try my very hardest to learn to play that song."

"Thanks son." Matt said as he playfully ruffled the little boy's hair.

At that moment Kitty returned to the parlor with a tray of milk and cookies. Christopher winked at Matt and said, "Miss Kitty, I think I want to practice that song one more time." He walked to the piano and sat down. He still failed to hit the D flat, but he seemed to play with renewed enthusiasm and that brought a smile to Kitty's lips.

Matt looked at the glass of milk in front of him, "Say Kitty – you don't have anything a little stronger than this do you?"

She laughed at him, "I'll see what I can do Cowboy."


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight**

Matt was beginning to take interest in the ranch again. As his body began the task of renewing itself, so did his interest in life around him. He made a point now, of getting up and out of bed early each day. He had mastered dressing himself and transferring his large frame to the wheelchair without the need of Kitty's breadboard. He enjoyed breakfast with Christopher before the youngster took off for school. Willie would come up to the ranch house after his early morning chores were finished and then he and Matt would discuss the ranch and any changes which might affect it. It was a typical morning when Will Roniger stopped by on his way back from town.

Festus joined the threesome and soon their conversation turned toward the barbed wire Susan Bart Harris was putting up on her property bordering the Dillon Ranch and the Roniger farm. Barbed wire was a relatively new invention that had traveled west from its point of origin in DeKalb, Illinois. A man named Joseph F. Glidden had invented it in 1873. Cattlemen had opposed the use of barbed wire because the barbs posed a hazard to livestock.

"It'll bring an end to the open range, Matt." Will predicted. "I know lots of small farmers are saying they're ago'in to use it. Not me though… I can't see the right of it -seems cruel to me. Can't figure out why Susan would do it. I reckon she's a just cut'tin off her nose to spite her face."

Nodding his head in agreement, Festus concluded, "Onliest reason I can figure Miss Susan putting it up is pure ol de meanness."

Matt concurred, but he was thinking too, "Willie our herd of brood mares are out in the western pasture that borders Moon Bar, aren't they?"

"Yes sir."

Matt's brows knitted together, "I think you'd better take a ride and check things out. Make sure those mares aren't any where near the fencing."

**GS GS GS**

Willie Roniger pulled the collar of his sheepskin jacket tighter around his ears. He wished he had taken along the wool scarf his Ma had knitted for him. The snow was coming down harder and he took his hat off his head to shake off some of the accumulated snow. Tapping his heels in the sides of his big bay gelding Gem, he gently spurred him on. The western range had seemed the perfect spot for the herd of fifty or so mares. The Marshal had invested a fair amount of money in the horses and he was right to be concerned about their safety the boy thought.

Willie spotted the herd in a sheltered valley. The animals appeared to be in good shape. Their shaggy winter coats made the mares look heavier than the last time he'd seen them. He watched a chestnut as she pawed at the snow until a space had been cleared revealing the grass underneath. It looked to young Roniger that their feed supply was good and he figured it'd be a spell before he'd need to haul hay out here.

Satisfied the mares were safe; he turned Gem in the direction of home. As he did, his curiosity got the better of him and he decided to ride out to Moon Bar to take a closer look at the barbed wire instead. The snow was starting to drift and the landscape took on the appearance of white waves. The wind had picked up and whipped stinging ice pellets against his cheeks. When he got to the fencing he jumped off his horse to inspect it at close range. The `fence' was made of two steel wires twisted together and strung between the wooded fence posts. The barbs were interspersed along the wire like deadly thorns. As he moved his hand along the wire his glove became caught on one of the barbs and tore at the leather. Willie gave a low whistle as he imagined what this `fencing' could do to horseflesh unlucky enough to become tangled in it.

He climbed back on Gem, but the white terrain made it difficult to get his bearings. The sun had finally come out and he squinted against the blazing light reflected on the icy snow. The brightness hurt his eyes. He pulled his hat nearly over his eyes in an effort to protect them from snow blindness. Willie decided it would be best to follow the fence line until he came to Silver Creek, and then follow the stream bed home. He was within sight of the creek when he noticed something trapped in the fence up ahead. Some poor creature had done battle with the barbs and lost. He stepped Gem forward for a closer look, although his horse seemed reluctant to move.

The sight that met his eyes tore at his heart. A rare December foal had run into the fence, her small stature making the barbs all the more lethal. He shook his head and was about to turn toward the creek when he noticed the young animal move. He couldn't allow a creature so young to suffer. Grabbing his rifle from its scabbard he took aim. Two large brown eyes stared back at him in pain and confusion. Had Willie been a seasoned cowhand, he would have fired his rifle and headed home. However, despite his impressive size, he was not much more than a boy. He had grown up on a farm and was well aware of life's harsh realities, but he couldn't fire the rifle – at least not without a closer look at the foal.

The fact the young animal was still alive told Willie it hadn't been trapped for long. He wondered what had happened to the foal's mother, but a glance around the countryside made her fate evident. The drifting white snow was slowly covering her black and bloodied form. He questioned what manner of miracle had spared the foal from the hungry wolves. He knew it would certainly be her fate as well by nightfall. Talking softly he came close to the horse and slowly bent to examine its injuries. He reached his gloved hand out to stroke the soft muzzle and was rewarded by a faint whinny. Taking out his knife he cut the wire, which had trapped the foal's legs. He gently ran his hand soothingly across the creature's withers. She was young not much more than a couple of weeks. Willie knew he should go back to Gem to retrieve his rifle and put the animal down, but, he couldn't ignore the beautiful little face with a blaze star centered on her forehead. "You'll be a humdinger by next spring, won't you girl." He told the horse. Without giving a lot of thought to the consequences of his act, the boy picked her up, and heaved her across his saddle.

It was dusk by the time Willie got back to the ranch. He wasn't sure if the foal was still alive until he placed her on a bed of straw in the far stall of the Dillon barn. He grabbed some used grain sacks and began rubbing her down as he tried to stimulate circulation. He was careful not to irritate the lacerations. Willie looked up when he heard the barn door open.

"Hey Willie - are you in here?" Chris called, "Miss Kitty said, would ya please milk the cow and come in for supper?"

"I'm back here." Willie called in response.

"Whatcha doing all the way back there, Willie?" Chris questioned as he started walking down the center aisle of the barn. He held his lantern high to light his way in case he encountered cowpie or road apple. When he got to the last stall and saw Willie and the foal he stopped in his tracks and carefully set the lantern down. "Oh Willie!" he breathed. With cautious steps he walked into the stall and dropped to his knees beside the young horse. His small hands were gentle as he reached out to touch the foal's head. That first touch was enough to bind the child's heart to the little black filly. When he found his voice he asked, "Where did she come from, what happened to her?" Willie explained how he had found her as he continued to dry the animal's coat. A horrible thought came to Christopher's head and he said it, "Is she going to die, Willie?"

The older boy shook his head, "I don't know, I don't know what to do for her, She needs something to eat…" he said thinking aloud.

He glanced in the direction of Buttercup the family cow waiting impatiently to be milked, "I'm not sure if this will work…but…." Willie got up and grabbed a bucket and started milking the cow, when the bucket was half full he brought it back by Chris and the horse. "I saw my pa do this once…" he explained as he dipped his fingers into the milk and then inserted them into the foal's mouth. As weak as the young animal was its reflex to suckle was still strong. Willie repeated the process several times. The filly struggled to her wobbly legs. This time Willie left his fingers in the foal's mouth while lowering them into the pail of warm milk. She continued to suckle on Willie's fingers. Gently he pulled his fingers from the foal's mouth and she was soon lapping up the milk from the pail. Willie and Chris exchanged a smile.

They were interrupted by Kitty's voice calling from the kitchen porch. "Christopher! Willie! Time for supper."

Willie looked over to the smaller boy, "you better go on to the house, I'll be up as soon as I finish milking Buttercup."

"What about the filly?"

"Not much more we can do for her tonight, "Don't worry, I'll cover her up with that old blanket before I go." The little boy was pushing the barn door open when Willie called, "Don't say anything about the filly, okay?"

Chris stopped and looked back in Willie's direction, puzzled he asked, "Why?"

"Because if I'd a done my job I woulda shot her out on the range. If Festus or the Marshal knew about her, well they might still make me."


	9. Chapter 9

**Nine**

It was barely sun-up the next day that Festus Hagen set out for Spearville, looking for Christopher's Christmas pony. Having exhausted all local prospects, he had conferred with Hank who thought there was a rancher up in northern Ford County with children who had outgrown their pony. So despite the snow, Festus and Ruth set out in search of the promised gift.

Doc Adams moved to the ranch early that same morning. His worn carpetbag with his entire wardrobe stuffed inside sat on the floor of his buggy. Since their wedding Matt and Kitty had been trying to convince Doc to move out to the ranch at least for the winter months. At first Doc had protested, saying his patients needed him; truth was, he still needed to be needed. As John Bledsoe took over more and more of his doctoring duties, Doc began to realize the place he was needed most was with his `family'.

The cold weather was causing his old bones grief, making it difficult to handle his mare. It was a relief to arrive at the ranch and he gratefully handed the reins over to Willie. His joints complained as he climbed out of the buggy. For a moment he hesitated, as he watched Willie lead his horse down to the barn. "I'll bring up your bags when I get your pony settle in." Willie offered. Adams nodded and slowly climbed up the kitchen porch steps, using the railing more than he liked to admit. He knocked on the door and then opened it. He walked in calling, "Anybody home?"

"We're in here, Doc, come on back," returned Kitty's voice from the bedroom. A satisfied smile broke on the old man's face at the sight of Kitty's ripe body. It wouldn't be much longer now, he thought. He resisted an urge to check her progress himself. He had decided months ago that her care should be entrusted to the younger eyes and mind of John Bledsoe. All the same, he thought, if looks said anything she was doing fine, just fine. He turned his attention to her husband. Matt was sitting on the edge of his bed pulling on his socks. The physician in him, studied Matt's awkward movements, noting his improved strength and mobility.

Just then Willie came in with Doc's medical bag and carpetbag, "Where do you want me to put these?" he asked.

Seeing the carpetbag, Kitty broke into a wide grin and rushed over to give Adams a hug, "Welcome home!" she greeted.

His voice was gruff in an effort to cover up the emotion the words `home' conjured, "It's cold out there aren't you gonna offer a fella a drink?"

"Well of course I am, I'll just get some coffee going while you check on Matt."

"Coffee wasn't what I had in mind young lady."

Kitty threw back her head and laughed, "Like I said Doc, `welcome home,' it's mighty good to have you here."

When the door was shut and Kitty's footsteps could be heard clicking down the hallway, Matt turned to ask his friend, "What did you find out?"

The old man slipped from his heavy winter coat, set it aside, with his medical bag in hand he moved to his patient's bedside and sat down, "It appears this gown isn't anything like that birthday monstrosity."

"You're sure Doc?" Matt asked, needing an extra measure of guarantee.

"I talked with Mary Helgemoe myself. She promised me the only thing those two dresses have in common is the color red." Matt let go a sigh of relief and turned to grin at Doc, but scowled instead as he saw Doc remove his `testing' needle from his bag, "Let's just see how those nerves are responding to stimuli today." Doc said with a little too much gusto as far as Dillon was concerned.

Walking back down the hall with fresh sheets for the bed in the guest room, Kitty could hear Matt from behind the closed door. "Ouch Doc, put that dang thing away!" An anxious frown knitted her brow, as she began making Doc's bed.

**GS GS GS**

"Now Doc, I insist," Kitty stated firmly, "You are to think of this as your home, we are a family."

They were seated around the kitchen table enjoying a second cup of coffee and each other's company, "Yeah, Doc, you can help Kitty catch up on her darning - since you're so good with that needle of yours." Matt said with a wry grin.

Doc smiled in agreement, "I guess you two could use the services of an experienced physician around here for awhile."

"I think that calls for another round on the house, what do you say boys?" Kitty asked her smile full of satisfaction at Doc's move.

**GS GS GS**

Willie Roniger had plenty of chores to keep him busy, but he took time throughout the day to check on the little filly. She lapped at the milk when he offered it to her, but she was listless and her eyes were hazy looking clearly showing disorientation and pain. Willie felt a sense of relief when he saw his father's wagon drop Christopher off from school that afternoon. The little boy waved at the older one from the porch steps, "I'll be down as soon as I get changed," he called. Running breathlessly into the kitchen with the door slamming behind him, not looking where he was going he ran smack into Doc.

"Hold it young fella! Didn't anyone ever teach you to look where you're going and not where you've been?" he asked in a kindly reprimand.

"Hi Doc" Christopher greeted, ignoring the scolding, "What are you doing here?"

"I've decided to take Miss Kitty up on her offer and stay for awhile."

"Oh boy!" Chris exclaimed wrapping his arms around the old man, the foal momentarily forgotten and then immediately remembered, "That's just great, I gotta change – see you later." He released his hold and took off like a 4th of July skyrocket down the hall and up the stairs to his room slamming two more doors in his wake.

Kitty entered the kitchen, "Chris home?" she asked even though the answer was obvious to her ears.

With a frown on his face, Doc nodded, "Acting a might strange too."

"He's seven Doc, that's the nature of the beast." The upstairs bedroom door slammed again and they heard the sound of Christopher's feet as he ran back down the stairs, He was still going at full speed when he hit the kitchen, "Hold on there little Cowboy, aren't you going to say `hello'? How about some milk and cookies?"

"Hi Miss Kitty, bye Miss Kitty, I can't stop to talk now, Willie needs me." He grabbed his barn coat and was out the door before Doc or Kitty could say another word. He was out of breath when he finally got to the barn; exhaustion and excitement had taken its toll. All day he had thought about the little filly. Miss Burrow had called on him three times during the day when he wasn't paying attention. The first time she'd scolded him, the second time she had asked him what was wrong, the third time she'd threatened a note home to Marshal and Miss Kitty. He'd made a point after that to at least `look' like he was paying attention.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ten**

He could see Willie's head over the top of the back stall and Chris abruptly slowed his movements to a walk so he wouldn't frighten the little foal. His voice was soft, "How is she Willie?"

"Gol, I don't know Chris. She drank some milk, but most of the time she just lays there not moving or nothing."

He sat down next to the foal and held out his hand, her soft muzzle reached out to him. He let his fingers trail down her neck and withers and stopped when he saw her leg. The wound looked to be festering some, "She needs a doctor don't she?"

Willie nodded, "Yeah, but if we tell your folks about her, they'll just have me put her down."

"Doc's here, he's staying for a spell, could be I could get him to come down here and take a look at her without Marshal and Miss Kitty knowing about it." Willie's face looked doubtful, "Doncha see?" Chris continued talking faster, "If we can get her healthy again, then they won't make you put her down, they'll be happy too."

Willie was skeptical, "I don't know – can we trust Doc not to tell them?"

Chris stood tall, with a tap to his chest he boasted, "Just leave it to me Willie"

**GS GS GS**

The physician's new room was right off the kitchen. The heat from the large cook stove radiated into his bedroom making it toasty warm. Doc's old bones took delight in the heat. Kitty had installed a comfortable chair with a foot stool, in the corner next to a table and bookshelf. At that moment, Adams had taken Kitty's advice and made himself at home. Removing his shoes, he settled into the cushions of the chair, wiggling his toes as he propped them atop the foot stool. He released a satisfied sigh of contentment.

Christopher tiptoed into the kitchen and exhaled with relief when he found it empty. He crept quietly to the guest room door. With his face set in a determined smile he walked into the room and saw his trusted friend in the chair. There was a medical journal in the old man's hands but his glasses had slipped down his nose and his intermittent snores interrupted the otherwise peaceful room.

"Doc?" Chris whispered. His snore turned to a short snort, as he shifted position in his sleep. "Doc?" Chris said a little louder. Still, the old man slept. Finally, the youngster prodded the doctor in the arm and nearly shouted, "DOC!" That did it, and the elderly physician awoke with a sputtered start. He blinked his eyes trying to get his bearings, "Doc." Chris said again. "I need you to come down to the barn. I got something to show you."

Adams sat up straightening his neck like a rooster ready for battle, "Good heavens young fella! It's cold and snowing outside. What do I want to go down to the barn for?"

Christopher gave Doc his most innocent of winning smiles, "because I got something I need to show you."

As hard as it was for Doc to say "no" to this child, the prospect of leaving his warm paradise to venture back in the cold was not at all appealing. "Can't you just tell me about it?" he asked.

Christopher's eyes grew very large; his face was plaintive, as he shook his head and said, "This is something you NEED to see. Please Doc? PUL-ease?"

Doc Adams scowled and grumped, he grabbed his shoes from the floor beside the chair and pulled them on with a grunt, "This better be good, Christopher or else..." He threatened as he pushed himself up with his hands on the arms of the chair. When he was properly garbed in winter coat, scarf, gloves and hat, Christopher took him by the hand and led him down the snowy path to the barn.

"I brought him!" Chris called as he opened the barn door. His hand was still in Doc's and he pulled the old man behind him down the center aisle to the last stall at the far end of the building.

Doc's annoyance changed as soon as he saw the weak animal. He transformed to a physician as he knelt beside the filly. Forgotten were his arthritic knees as the need to heal took precedence. Over the years Adams had helped as many animal patients as human patients. He saw little difference between the two. His primary goal had always been to ease suffering and restore health. He took his time examining the foal. Finally he turned to the boys and started asking questions. Doc listened patiently as Willie explained how he had come by the filly and what they had done for her so far. From time to time Doc interrupted the discourse to ask pertinent questions or nod his head. Finally he was ready to offer his diagnosis and treatment plan, "I want you two young men to know this animal is in very serious condition. It will take a lot of care to bring her through this. An animal this age needs its mother, without her – well, without constant care she will die."

Willie and Chris were not hearing anything they didn't already know, but hearing Doc say the words made them seem all the more ominous. They both answered with a silent nod.

"First thing I want you to do is to put a little honey in Buttercup's milk before you give it to her. You see, a horse's milk is sweeter than a cow's this way it'll taste more natural to her. She is dehydrated, so she needs to be offered milk at least once every few hours.

"Even at night, Doc?" Willie asked.

Doc thought a moment, "Yes, someone will have to make sure she gets some nourishment at least once a night for the next week or so." He turned to look at Christopher. "Is there any of that balm left over from what you used on Buck?"

The younger boy nodded, "There's a whole `nother bottle, Doc."

"Good, now, I want you to apply that to her wounds just the way you did to Buck, understand?" He waited for Christopher to nod, before he continued. "We'll have to soak those wounds at least once a day, too." He stopped to look at the foal, "She's so young…" he was shaking his head and thinking hard, finally he said, "You see, a young animal relies a lot on scent … it imprints its mother's smell on its mind and memory. It learns to identify with that, and finds security just knowing she's near, by her smell. It's been my experience that very young animals separated from their mothers do better if they have something around them all the time that'll remind them their safe." He narrowed his eyes and looked directly at Chris, "Do you have anything like that?"

"Me Doc?" Christopher asked in confusion, "Willie found her, she isn't my horse."

"She's your horse, Chris, I got me Gem; he's all the horse I need." Willie said

A sudden pride of ownership filled Christopher's heart as he looked at the little filly, the smile on his face had a light of its own, "I know just the thing Doc!"

"Good, good, let's get some of that balm on those wounds, and some more milk in her and then you can go get it Chris." With that, the unlikely trio set to work taking care of the little orphan horse.


	11. Chapter 11

**Eleven**

An hour later Kitty Dillon turned at the sound of her kitchen door slamming once again, she halted the seven year old in his tracks, "Time to get washed up for supper little Cowboy." She glanced at the empty bedroom off to her right, "Hmmm, I wonder where Doc has wandered off to."

Chris replied a little impatiently, "He's down at the barn with Willie, I'll go get him," he offered. "but, I gotta get something from upstairs first." He smiled and then made an about face and fled from the kitchen up the stairs and to his bedroom with Puppy nipping at his heals all the way. He patted the little dog's head, "Sorry Pup, I can't play now, I got something important to do." He got on his hands and knees, reached under his bed and pulled out a flat wooden trunk. He hadn't opened this box since he'd helped his Mama pack for their move almost six months earlier. He wasn't thinking about that now. When the box was far enough away from the bed he lifted the lid. The sweet scent, which touched his nostrils, evoked one word from memory and mouth, "Mama."

A smile formed on his lips as he pulled out the hat and mittens his mother had knit for him the year before. A small hand sewn sachet fell from its fold into his lap. Taking the scented envelope in his hand, he brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply, saying the word again, "Mama." He didn't realize that for this time the pain was absent at the thought of her. He only knew he wanted to dig deeper into this box of remembrances. He found his yo-yo and he giggled at the image of his father playing with the toy as he showed Christopher how to use it. His Mama had laughed and said, "I'm not sure which of you is the bigger child…" Young Christopher had gone and given his Mama a kiss and said, "That's easy Mama, Papa's a lot bigger n me." A cigar box yielded the tin soldiers Marshal and Miss Kitty had given him the previous Christmas. He opened the lid and took out a little man. He smiled thinking about the time last spring he and his father had played war on the front porch with the toy army.

He picked up a book and flipped through the pretty pages, his Mama had read it to him every night for a month just because he'd asked her to. His fingers caressed the pages knowing her fingers had lovingly touched the same book. His lips formed a soundless; "oh" as he reverently picked up a deputy badge his Papa had given him. Too rusted for official purposes, Thad had pinned it on his son's shirt telling him, "Someday, when you are a little bigger, we'll ride together." Christopher's thumb rubbed across the satiny smoothness of the star at the center. Only the center star had escaped the tarnished and rust and was as smooth to the touch as when it was brand new. Christopher had loved the badge and spent a whole day trying to polish it. At the bottom of the trunk he found what he was looking for… his baby blanket. He pulled it out and held it to his cheek, feeling its comforting softness and inhaling its nostalgic fragrance. A peace came to the little boy; a knowledge that he'd been loved and was loved and whatever happened in life he would always have that. This was what he wanted to give to his filly, something to let her know she was loved. He set the blanket aside and with tenderness replaced all the contents and gently closed the lid. He gave the box a careful push back under the bed. A smile crossed his face at the knowledge those loving memories and so many more were close at hand and heart.

With his blanket in his grasp he ran out of his room, down the steps and out the back door down to the barn, "I got it, I got it!" he declared.

Adams was sitting on a stool in the stall, keeping a medical eye on his newest patient. He looked up at the youngster and recognized the blanket, "Are you sure you want to give that to an animal?" he asked.

Chris nodded, fingering the blanket one last time before offering it to his filly. Ever so gently and carefully, as his mother had done for him, Chris did for the foal, placing the blanket over the sleeping animal. He stepped back to gaze with eyes full love and a heart ripe with happiness.


	12. Chapter 12

**Twelve**

Several days later Festus returned to report, "It ain't no use Matthew I couldn't find nary a riding pony fit for Christopher in this here whole county. Oh fiddle I found me a few ponies, but the onliest thing they was fit for was a glue pot."

"Thanks for looking Festus, I guess we'll just have to come up with something else." Dillon turned to look at Kitty, there was disappointment etched on her tired face.

She sighed, "I was so hoping Festus, I could just see it. On Christmas morning, I was going to put a big red bow around its neck. The pony would be at the front porch rail. We'd tell Chris to see about a little noise outside. He'd peek through the curtained window and there would be the pony…" her voice trailed off as her well planned dream was dashed.

"It'll be okay, Kitty," Matt consoled, "we'll just tell him he can have a pony as soon as we find one."

Her lips thinned as she nodded, but the disappointment was evident on her face.

"It's not like he won't have presents this Christmas." Matt reminded her. That was true; she had a whole closet full of gifts waiting to be wrapped for the boy. Some she had purchased from Mr. Lathrop and the rest from the mail order catalogue.

**GS GS GS**

That night as Festus was on his way out the kitchen door to go down to the bunk house, Christopher stopped him, "Uncle Festus, can you keep a secret?"

"Us Hagens has always been extree good secret keepers," he bragged. Then he scowled, "You got a secret Christopher?"

Chris nodded his head, "It's down at the barn – but you can't tell Marshal or Miss Kitty, not yet anyway." As he had with Doc, Christopher led the way down to the barn. In the past couple days under the watchful eye of her own personal physician the little filly had blossomed. A soft layer of flesh covered the ribs that had only days earlier stuck out. Her eyes were bright and her black coat gleamed from the gentle grooming of Christopher.

Festus knelt down to take a closer look at the foal, while Christopher explained her story, "Why ain't she the looksomest little filly you ever did see?" He turned to the little boy and asked, "What's her name?"

Chris shrugged his shoulders, "She hasn't got a name yet … I guess I can't call her Filly the way I call Puppy … Puppy … can I … what would you call her Uncle Festus?"

"Us Haggens name our critters people names, mostly from the Good Book, cause we tend to spend a lot of time ajawin with 'em. So ifn' she was mine I'd call her Bethsheba or Johosaphat…them's Bible names doncha know." A puzzled look came to the mountain man's face, "Why are you keeping her a secret?"

"Because we were afraid Marshal would make Willie put her down, cause she was doing so poorly without her Mama and all.

"She ain't doin poorly now." Festus paused, and scratched at his whiskered chin as an idea came to his head, "but maybe you should ought keep her a secret at least until Christmas morning…"

"I should?" Chris asked, "Why?"

"I got me a little ol idea stewing…"

**GS GS GS**

With so many last minute preparations to take care of Kitty hardly noticed the fact Christopher, Festus and even Doc seemed to spend a lot of time together in the barn. She didn't notice her supply of honey was dwindling away either. She didn't notice Christopher seemed to be working extra hard when it came to practicing the piano. No, Miss Kitty was busy with Christmas. There were cookies to be baked, a home to be decorated with fresh fragrant evergreens, and presents to be wrapped. There was also silverware to be polished and yards and yards of linen tablecloth, which required ironing. And always ... always there was Matt to worry over and take care of.

Two days before Christmas, Willie drove Miss Kitty into town for one last shopping trip. It seemed there was always one more present to purchase. When she'd finished her shopping she asked Willie to carry her packages back to the buggy, while she stopped by Mary Helgemoe's Dress Shoppe.

"I've got the gown in the back room waiting for you Miss Kitty." Mary told her.

"I can't wait to see it" Kitty said as she took off her cape and gloves.

"Now Miss Kitty, I know this isn't exactly what you had in mind, and I hope you won't be too disappointed." Mary said as she led Kitty into a dressing room. The gown was on a hanger against the wall. Kitty's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the prettiest dress she thought she'd ever seen. With Mary's help she disrobed and slipped into the red wool gown. She rushed to Mary's mirror to admire her reflection. The beauty of the dress lay in the simplicity of line and the fine workmanship. The delicate Irish lace against her throat and neck softened the style and drew attention away from Kitty's growing middle. The fabric was of a hue that was extremely flattering to Kitty's coloring. The empire waist was gently belted with matching satin ribbon and it flowed into a hint of a bustle at the back. A single white velvet rose rested between her breasts. The gown was perfect and she couldn't wait for Matt to see her in it. She knew it was special enough to make him forget all about the mysteriously lost birthday gown. Kitty gave her reflection a fond wink."It's perfect Mary, I thank you."

While Kitty finished up her shopping, Christopher and Uncle Festus went out hunting for the perfect Christmas tree. Chris rode behind Festus on Ruth, he had to hang on tightly or Ruth's bumpy gait would have bounced him right off the saddle. It was not an easy job as both the little boy and Festus had different ideas on what a Christmas tree should look like. But finally they came across a shapely evergreen that met both of their standards. Festus chopped at the trunk, but let Christopher take the axe for the swing, which felled the tree. They arrived home dragging their prize behind them at the same time as Kitty and Willie. The evening was spent decorating the tree.

Matt chuckled from across the room as he watched Doc stringing popcorn, "Well I see you finally found a good use for that needle of yours."

When the tree was fully dressed they all took a moment to admire it. Christopher's eyes were bright, filled with last year's memories and this year's dreams.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thirteen**

It seemed impossible that tonight was Christmas Eve, Kitty thought as she finished wrapping the last present. She heard the sound of Matt's wheel chair against the wood floor and turned to see him enter the bedroom. "Merry Christmas," he greeted, "I thought since we can't make it to town for church, maybe we could make it a special night here for Chris."

"What have you got in mind Cowboy?" she asked.

His smile had a boyish charm, "For starters, your `men' are going to take care of dinner tonight, you are to put your feet up and rest and relax and leave everything to us."

"That's the best offer I've had in a long time." She answered with a grateful smile.

As he watched she sank back onto the bed, he maneuvered his chair to her side and eased the shoes from her feet, "Oh, that feels so good…" she sighed contentedly.

"You rest, and we'll wake you when it's almost time to eat."

When she emerged from her room several hours later it was to find the dining room table had been set, and candles were burning. Her men were waiting for her, Festus moved around the table to her side and offered his arm, "I'd be plum pleased if'n you'd let me walk you to the your chair, Miss Kitty."

She smiled and took his arm. Christopher dressed in his best shirt and string tie held the chair out for her as she sat down next to Matt. Standing at his place, Doc opened his Bible, "I think on this holiest of all nights it would be fitting to read about the first Christmas all those years ago." The old man cleared his throat and read the timeless story, "Luke Chapter two, Verse one, `_and it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed. And all went to betaxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, unto the city of David which is called Bethlehem to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child…."_

As she listened to the words, and thought of Mary and the promise of new life, she felt the baby within her move. Matt next to her, reached out to take her hand, she looked at him and smiled.

_"…and suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace good will toward men." _Doc finished_._

"That was beautiful, thank you Doc." Kitty said in a hushed voice.

They enjoyed the meal of Hagen Roasted Venison, Adams Buttery Buns, Matt's Mashed potatoes, and topped by Christopher's Christmas snow ice cream. When the last drop of ice cream was scraped from the bowl, Festus and Doc offered to do the dishes, Kitty observed that this was certain to be one of her favorite gifts of the holidays.

Christopher stayed up late that night listening to the grownups remember Christmas past. When Kitty finally got him into bed he was very sleepy. She listened to his prayers, tucked him in and smiled as Puppy jumped up to take his place at the foot of the bed.

She was just about to leave the room when he sat up and said, "Miss Kitty, it happened, just like you promised, it happened."

"What happened little Cowboy?" she asked returning to his bedside.

His smile was a little bit sheepish as he confessed, "I didn't even know it happened…"

"You're talking in riddles, and it's too late for word games…"

"You see, I had to get something out of my trunk – the one that's been under my bed … I hadn't been in the truck since I came here, since Mama and I packed it. I opened it up and I could smell Mama, the sweet way she always smelled… and I looked at my toys and books and things. I remembered Mama and Papa – and what I remembered made me happy. It made me feel good. It wasn't until later I remembered I hadn't felt sad." She smiled in response to his wondrous voice as he continued. "So I just wanted you to know, `cause you promised me it would happen… and it did." He wrapped his arms around her neck, his head resting against hers. He was quiet for a moment and then asked shyly, "do you think it would be okay if sometime… I called you Mama…? Would it make my Mama feel sad, `cause I wouldn't ever want her to feel sad?"

She hugged him tighter, and her words caught in her throat for a moment before she was able to say them. "I have a strong feeling it would make your Mama happy, it would make me very happy too." She pulled away from him and planted a kiss atop his nose, before, "Time for sleep now." She rose to leave. When she was at the door she turned to him, Merry Christmas Christopher."

"Merry Christmas…. Mama."


	14. Chapter 14

**Fourteen**

Christmas morning dawned to a flurry of activity in the Dillon house. Before the sun had fully risen, Christopher Greenwood was tiptoeing down the stairs with Puppy at his heels. He met Doc at his bedroom door. "Where are they?" Chris asked.

"They're in the parlor … better hurry; Festus is already down by the barn." Doc whispered hoarsely.

Grabbing his coat and hat Christopher quietly opened and shut the door. In the parlor, Kitty scurried about arranging presents under the tree. "It looks just fine Kitty." Matt said, "That's enough fussing, come over here and give me a Christmas kiss."

If anyone had told Kitty Russell one year ago that this would be her life a year later she would have laughed in their face. Her hair was hanging unbrushed down her back; her flannel nightgown had seen better days and her bathrobe no longer fit around her middle. She hardly felt kissable, but looking into Matt Dillon's eyes she'd never felt more beautiful. "Merry Christmas, Kitty." He said.

"Merry Christmas, Cowboy," she returned. The long arm of the law pulled her into his lap for a loving kiss. The wheel chair groaned at her added weight but they didn't seem to notice or care.

Christopher, having taken care of matters in the barn, tiptoed back into the house. He could hear Doc getting dressed in his room. The youngster was curious about what might be going on in the parlor decided to take a peak. He saw the presents piled under the tree and Miss Kitty on the Marshal's lap. He smiled to himself, they reminded him of Mama and Papa, acting silly like that.

An hour later all that remained of the pretty packages Kitty had painstakingly wrapped was a pile of paper, folded and stacked neatly, waiting to be used to help start kindling wood on cold mornings to come. Sitting in a comfortable chair, Doc was thumbing though his new medical books, his old eyes alive with a love of medicine and learning. Festus stood at the parlor mirror admiring his brand new hat. He tried it on at a variety of angles. "'course it will take a while to break this here one in so's it feels like my old one." Festus said. Doc looked up from his reading and shook his head chuckling, "You're worse than a peacock sporting new tail feathers."

"You ol' scutter…" Festus started quacking, when he saw Doc making a motion in the direction of the clock. Festus glanced at the clock too, and said in a loud voice, "I think I'll go stretch my legs fer a spell."

Matt ran his hand up and down the cane Doc had crafted for him. The wood was sanded and polished as smooth as silk. He never thought he'd look forward to using a cane, but right now it was a promising thought. Chris sat on the floor admiring the new BB gun Marshal had given him along with the promise to take him out hunting as soon as he was able.

"Help me up, Matt." Kitty said. She had been sitting on the floor at his side. He reached a hand down and pulled her up. He refrained from making a comment about her increasing size and she was grateful. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"We're having a houseful of company this afternoon. I have to get on the breakfast on the table, a ham in the oven and a house ready for the party."

She stopped on her way out of the room to glance at her reflection in the parlor mirror. "Oh good heavens, I look a fright!"

She hadn't noticed Festus come back in the house, but she did notice when he said, "What's that noise outside? Company coming already?"

A panicked look came into Kitty's eyes as she surveyed the condition of her house and her person - neither one presentable for company.

Chris grinned at Festus and looked at Kitty, "Maybe we should take alook, Mama." It was the first time the men had heard Chris call Kitty, `Mama' and it brought a sweet smile to their masculine faces. Taking her hand the little boy led her to the window. She looked outside and then looked again certain her eyes were playing tricks on her. The tiny black filly stood tied to the front porch with a big red bow around her neck. Kitty was speechless, and Doc and Festus laughed at her surprise. Matt wheeled himself to the window so he could have a look too.

As the story of the foal was told, Kitty couldn't help but think some things were meant to be and no matter how hard you tried you couldn't mess them up.

"Have you thought of a name for her, Chris?" Matt asked.

With a firm nod of his head he replied, "Yes sir, I'm going to call her Star."

Kitty smiled approvingly, "For the pretty white blaze on her forehead?"

"For the star of Bethlehem, because she came at Christmas time?" Doc asked.

"Sort of … but more for my Papa and Marshal, and the star in the middle of their badges." Christopher explained.

"Star's a fine name." Matt said thinking of Thad and how promises were meant to be kept.

**GS GS GS**

With everyone pitching in the house was soon ready for Kitty's Christmas party. She took a long time dressing, giving extra care with her hair and even applying a dusting of powder to her face and rouge to cheeks and lips. Matt anxiously eyed the clock afraid the guests would arrive before she was ready to make an appearance. Finally he knocked on the bedroom door. "Kitty what's going on in there, what's taking so long?"

"Come on in Matt, I want you to see something." She responded. The sight that met his eyes when he opened the door forced a whistle of appreciation from his lips. "Do you like it?" she asked. The smile on his face and twinkle in his eyes gave her his answer.

Newly played gentleman for the day and escorted both Ma and Edsel Pry. John Bledsoe, his wife Martha and their two young children joined them as well. Toward the middle of the afternoon, Sam, Miss Hannah and Louie stopped by. As Louie explained, "It just wasn't Christmas without you Miss Kitty." The Dillon home was filled with laughter and easy conversation between good friends. They feasted on delicious food and stepped lively when Sam entertained with his fiddle music. It was a happy Christmas Day for all.

Hours later as the last of the guests were leaving, Kitty stood at the door waving and saying, "Merry Christmas!" She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders as a blast of icy air swirled around the porch sending a shower of snow to scamper across her feet. Matt watched her from his spot by the Christmas tree. He tenderly noted that even with the weight of her pregnancy she moved with a fluid grace. It had been a long day and an even longer month. She was tired, something he saw in the dark smudges beneath her eyes. But she was pleased and he had in mind making her just a little more pleased before the night was over.

Christopher stood at the window his nose flattened against the glass pane. He watched the guests ride away on their horses and in their buggies. Mr. Newly saw him framed in the window and turned to wave. Chris waved back. He looked in the direction of the barn and knew his little filly was bedded down safe in her cozy stall. He thought about all the adventures he and Star would share and he was a happy little boy.

"Chris." Matt called. He spun around to look at Marshal. "Don't you have something special planned for Miss Kitty?"

Kitty stood in the parlor doorway, her eyes looked sleepy but her smile was content. "What have you planned?" She asked.

"I've been practicing something for you." The young man revealed.

"You have? What?" she asked.

He moved from the window to seat himself at the piano. Kitty gave a questioning glance to Matt before moving to Christopher's side. The little boy studied the sheet music in front of him, trying to locate all the D flats in advance. He stretched his fingers, peaked up at Kitty to make sure she was watching and then proceeded to play. Kitty was so caught up in the poignancy of the child's gift and the music that she didn't notice Doc and Festus standing on either side of Matt or the fact they were supporting him as he rose to his feet. When he was standing, both men moved away. Matt said her name as tenderly as any endearment, "Kitty."

She turned to look at him at the sound of his voice, and her mouth fell open in wonder.

"May I have this dance?" he asked simply.

"Oh Matt!" She answered as she moved into his waiting arms. The dance was not much more than a gentle swaying of two lovers united in a timeless embrace, but to Kitty's dancing heart it rivaled the grand march at Joseph Gerhardt's ballroom.


End file.
